


Want

by venis_envy



Series: Mating Games: Round 2 [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Frottage, Kissing, M/M, Sexual Content, survivor sex, unknown danger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-31
Updated: 2014-05-31
Packaged: 2018-01-27 19:46:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1720406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venis_envy/pseuds/venis_envy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>#10 in Mating Games challenge 3: The Non-Penetration Challenge</p>
            </blockquote>





	Want

**Author's Note:**

> This is the uncut version of the one I actually ended up using for the challenge. Still a little disappointed I couldn't cut [Anhedonia](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1672601) down for this round, but whaddaya do?

Everything in Stiles' line of sight is tinged red. The smell of earth and pine needles and redwoods fill his senses, each faint aroma overlaid with the sharp, metallic scent of blood. He’s breathless and achy, and if it wasn’t for the hurt, he’d question whether they actually made it out at all.

His thighs burn from running, head throbs with pain, and he isn't sure how much further he can go.

" _Stiles_ ," Derek hisses, voice cutting razor sharp through Stiles’ awareness. His hand snaps out, catches Stiles around the wrist and stops him running.

Derek cocks his head, listening, eyes scanning the treeline around them. Stiles notes the subtle calm in Derek's posture, the way his shoulders seem to relax just the barest amount; just enough for Stiles to understand they've escaped immediate danger, enough for Stiles' body to catch up with his realization and give out completely.

Derek loops an arm around his waist, curls Stiles' arm over his shoulder to better support his weight, and stumbles out of the clearing with him.

They slip into an opening in the mountainside, a rocky cave that’s pitch dark in its depths, and Stiles chokes in a breath of musty, dank air.

“There’s moving water in here,” Derek says, tipping his chin up and scenting the air. “That means there’s an outlet.”

He shifts Stiles’ weight, leans him into a cold, rocky wall, and steps away to survey the area. Stiles watches, each of Derek’s moves ginger, but fluid, as if Derek is unable to contain his lethal, predatory grace even while injured this way.

Derek comes back to Stiles, so close Stiles can feel his warm breath on his face and see the flecks of gold in his eyes. “We’ll be safe here for a while. I need time to heal, and then I’ll carry you out of here if I have to.”

He examines Stiles, first with his gaze, and then with his hands. Derek's fingertips ghost over Stiles' flank, down his side gingerly as his other hand holds Stiles' shirt up and out of the way.

The claw marks are deep, but Stiles doesn't think they're deep enough to cause worry. Not the life threatening kind, anyway. Derek's eyes snap up to his, scanning his expression for signs of pain and Stiles just heaves out a breath, slumps against the rocks at his back.

"I'm okay," he says. "I'm good. We're alive. Holy shit." His breathing is still ragged, words a little choked, but Stiles doesn't care. They're afucking _live._

Carefully, Derek pulls Stiles' shirt up over his head and discards it on the ground. He drags his hands down Stiles' chest and stomach, barely touching him as he scans his body for more injuries.

He seems to be satisfied when his gaze finally meets Stiles', more relaxed and sure. But the look Derek gives him causes unmistakable desire to bloom bright and hot in Stiles' belly.

Stiles can't help the small smile that tugs at the corners of his lips. It must be the rush of adrenaline surging through him that makes the smile possible at all, but he isn’t going to question it. Derek is a mess, all scraped skin and fresh blood, gashes across his bare chest that Stiles is _sure_ he wouldn’t have survived himself.

He licks his lips instinctively, watches as Derek's eyes flick to his mouth. Stiles doesn't even allow time for a second thought. Driven by the adrenaline, and the fact that they survived, the idea that they may not have and there never would've been a chance at all, he cups a hand around the back of Derek's neck, pulls him into a soft, wet kiss.

Derek hesitates for a moment, but then hooks his fingers into the top of Stiles' jeans, dragging against his skin and tugging him closer. He kisses along Stiles’ jaw and down his neck, licks the scraped skin of his shoulder and then blows cool air against it, soothing the sting.

Fingers still curled over Stiles' jeans, Derek presses his thumbs to the outline of Stiles' dick, hard and wanting.

Stiles breathes out something between a surprised laugh and a wanton groan. He allows his hands to explore Derek, too, skimming over slicks of sweat and blood, slowing to drag across taut muscles.

He starts to count his fingers to see if he's dreaming, but stops abruptly when he realizes he doesn't care. Doesn’t want to know. They’re alive, and Derek is kissing him, hot and desperate and fucking _perfect._

Derek steps even closer somehow, fits himself into the space between Stiles' legs, fingers circling Stiles' wrist below the bruised skin and swollen veins.

"I can take it. The pain."

"No," Stiles says, a little abruptly. "I don't—I want it." It means he's alive, awake, and this is real. Stiles will keep the pain as a reminder that he isn't dreaming.

Derek kisses him again, rocks against Stiles and Stiles can feel how hard he is, even through all the layers of clothes between them.

"Keep doing that," Stiles says before sucking a mark into Derek's collar bone.

"I intended to." Derek does it again, the friction causing little sparks of light to burst behind Stiles' closed eyelids.

The rocking of their hips goes from slow, languorous slides to frantic jolts of pleasure, each shift of bruised body somehow only adding to the sensation, amplifying the feel of Derek pressed against Stiles.

Stiles stifles a groan against Derek's shoulder, wraps his arms around him and presses a kiss to the hollow of his throat. A crescendo of breathy moans and stilted syllables echo faintly off the rocks of the cave and Stiles chokes back a moan, shushes Derek with lips and tongue as he grips Derek's ass, pulls him in again.

His senses are alive with nervous energy, each slide of Derek's cock against his exaggerated by adrenaline, fear, and months of built-up lust.

Stiles tips his head back to look at Derek, to say _something,_ though he doesn't know what. Derek's eyes are dark, pupils eclipsing irises and leaving only a sliver of the familiar green. His lips are pink and glistening, kiss-swollen and so fucking soft in contrast to the feel of his hands on Stiles' body.

Stiles shifts again, rutting against Derek, sliding his tongue into Derek's mouth and begging with nothing more than the move of his body and the taste of his kiss.

He doesn't even care that he's about to come in his pants, because this is Derek, and everything Stiles wants, _needs_.

"Please," Derek whispers against Stiles' neck, branding the plea into Stiles' skin with a hot kiss.

Stiles shifts a leg up, hooks it around Derek's hip and Derek's hands slap against the rocks beside them, bracing himself as he thrusts more determinedly.

The friction is good, so fucking good, but it's the expression on Derek's face that causes tight heat to coil at the base of Stiles' spine; lips parted, face tipped down, but his eyes still trained solely on Stiles'.

With a few more short thrusts, hard cocks dragging against one another, Derek's dark gaze pinning Stiles, his orgasm crashes through him like a violent tidal wave. He clings to Derek, whimpers against his lips as little jolts rock through him, and then Derek is coming, too, groaning into the kiss, grip tight around the back of Stiles' thigh as he holds him up.

"Definitely gonna feel this later," Stiles says after a moment.

Derek looks pained, his fingers sliding back to Stiles' injured side. "Let me," he says, but Stiles shakes his head.

He still wants the aches and pains. Just for a little while longer.

 


End file.
